


Divine (I am not)

by MusicalTogekiss



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Dark, M/M, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalTogekiss/pseuds/MusicalTogekiss
Summary: He was powerful, he was beautiful, he was the Living God.God's aren't supposed to make mistakes.





	Divine (I am not)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my computer for literal years (my computer says last saved on 2010!) and I just found it again. So i said what the heck, let's post it.  
> I was apparently a very angsty teen?? I have no idea what sparked this (8 years is a long time to try to remember that) but looking at it now, I can't think of anything I would really change or add; it's complete as it is.

It wasn’t intended to be this way, not at all. It wasn’t supposed to feel like defeat when clearly he had won; his most prized possession in his grasp, his alone and for always. He got what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. He was King of Games and his prize was so much more than anything he had ever owned before. He was powerful, he was beautiful, he was the living God.

  
He was Pharaoh.

  
Living God’s weren’t supposed to make mistakes. They weren’t supposed to cry or lose or give in and they certainly weren’t supposed to win and lose at the same time. It just wasn’t possible, never possible, it simply did not happen. _But it did_. His fingers curled in loose golden-rod bangs not his own, but his mind (so cunning, so intelligent, so _stupid_ ) was elsewhere. His thoughts were of a time when he didn’t win, and yet lose his most prized object. He dreamed of happier days.

  
He had once been known as _mou hitori no boku_ , or _mou hitori no Yuugi_ , or _Yu-Gi-Oh_ , or even _Yami no Yuugi_ ; now he was simply the cruel man-who-couldn’t-be-a-living-god (because he made a mistake, God‘s don‘t _make_ mistakes). The only title he still carried was _Yu-Gi-Oh_ , and oh how he wished he didn‘t. It wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worth what he had lost.

  
_Mou hitori no Yuugi_ had been mildly possessive of his other self, but loving and kind, fair in his judgment of others yet cruel as the occasion called. He had been a good man ( _spirit_ ), a guardian and friend. He had saved the world many times over, memory-less but powerful, with a purpose ( _protectprotectprotect_!), and new friends and memories made everyday. He had been someone to admire.

  
He had been devoured by something else.

  
_Yu-Gi-Oh_ (a title, only a title, never his name _Atem_ ) was horribly possessive of his other self. He had been Pharaoh, what was his _stayed_ his and could not be touched by anyone _but_ him. Yuugi was his, Yuugi would always be his; the kinder, more innocent, wiser, lighter half of his soul. _Yu-Gi-Oh_ was not kind, he was rather cruel; he was not a good man or guardian, he was a spirit who would not move on; he did not save the world, but rather, destroyed a smaller, but no less important, world. He was not admired by those past friends he had made; he was hated and feared and no longer their _Mou hitori no Yuugi_.

  
He had forgotten, in his game of catch, that you had to _ask_ the other to play the game first. Or perhaps he remembered, but thought that Pharaoh was above such a thing as asking. He did not remember, it had seemed so unimportant at the time. Now, the consequences in front of him, he wished he had lowered (not lower, never lower, _always equal_ ) himself to ask a simple, so very easy question. The result would have been so much different. No, he simply took and took and took until there was no more to take, a well gone dry and with no hope of refilling.

  
He was no Pharaoh, no living God, no _mou hitori no boku_ , or _Yami no Yuugi_ (how could something so evil ever be part of something so pure). He was _Yu-Gi-Oh_ now, he won all games. And he wasn’t challenged anymore, never more ( _can’tcan’twon’twon’t_ ), the only challenger defeated in a game that had been rigged from the beginning.

  
_Yu-Gi-Oh_ brushed his fingertips (so lovingly, so gently, so _sorrysorrysorry_ ) through stark white hair (not from age, he was only 22) and golden bangs (the only bright colour left) and wished he could do it all over again.

  
In his lap, his beloved Yuugi, his beautiful light, lay broken and irreparable, staring uncomprehendingly ahead with deadened violet eyes and pale hair and even breathing, healthy in body but dead in soul.

  
_Yu-Gi-Oh_ had the power to crush souls, but he could never put them back together, and never had he regretted it more than when Yuugi finally broke and the light he had so loved, had played a cruel game just to take, went out with a last mournful wail.

  
He would never know whether it was his own tears or the rain that wet his face.

**Author's Note:**

> I was REALLY angsty, apparently.


End file.
